The Middle of the Road to Burbank
by Shotzette
Summary: What really happened during The Road to Burbank.


The Middle of The Road To Burbank  
By Shotzette

_This is a work of fanfiction only. It was not meant to infringe upon any copyrights held by anybody, anywhere, anyhow._

_Laverne DeFazio's skin prickled as she felt eyes upon her. Feigning nonchalance, she threw back the lid of the dumpster and chucked her trash bags in, smiling as she heard them land. She paused briefly, pondering what sort of disgusting collision of waste would make that unusual kersploosh noise._

_"Hello!"_

_She didn't give him the satisfaction of reacting. He'd been trying to draw her into his little game for a week now, either by pointedly ignoring her, or staring daggers at her when she entered the room. She wasn't going to take the bait. As far as she was concerned, everything that happened at the Royal Cactus was water under the bridge. No need to ever speak of it, or think of it again; especially since the balance had been paid to the hotel owner. It was over, done, finito._

_"I said **Hello**," Lenny repeated, anger simmering in his blue eyes._

_"Oh, so you're speaking to me again. That's nice to know," she replied, in a tone she forced to be casual. She started to turn, to exit the alley and head back to her apartment, but something in his tone made her stand stock still._

_"Yes, I am speaking to you, Laverne DeFazio. What you did the other night was wrong!" He grabbed her arm roughly, and she could feel the tension in his body. He was shaking slightly, and it occurred to her that she had never seen him quite as angry._

_"Let go of me," she said, between clenched teeth. Immediately, he released her arm, dropping it as one would let go of a stranger's used Kleenex. His eyes, however, still held her in a grip far stronger. "You need to learn how to get over things, Len," she muttered, as she rubbed her sore upper arm._

_"Get over things? That's a laugh, Laverne!"_

_"You don't seem to be very amused,"_

_"I ain't," he said in a flat tone. The words seemed to hang between them in the empty alleyway._

_"Could you keep it down?" Laverne looked around furtively. This wasn't a conversation she wanted anyone to overhear._

_"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked in a quieter, yet no less hostile tone. "Why did you let Shirl say all them fibs, when you know that wasn't all that happened that night? Why," his voice choked up, briefly, "why didn't you tell everyone what really happened that night in Nevada?"_

Lenny looked across the empty space between the two beds. "Uh, Squig? I think we went too far this time."

"Lenny, my poor simpleton. It was Laverne and Shirley, you can't go too far with them."

"Squig..."

"Okay, poor choice of words. What I meant to say is that they knew we was kidding."

"I dunno. They both looked pretty angry. And a little scared."

"Scared, schmared. They're a little cheezed off right now, but a good night's sleep in a cruddy motel bathroom will do them both a world of good. They'll forget about it all come morning when they wake up as fresh as meadow muffins…"

"I don't think so. I think we should apologize. Now."

"Andrew Squiggman ain't never apologizing to no broad. I will beg, grovel, plead, and try to get them drunk; but I'll never apologize!"

"Well, Leonard Kosnowski don't have such high standards. I feel real crummy, and I'm going to say I'm sorry." With that, he rose from the bed and walked over to the bathroom door.

"I ain't gonna stay here and watch you humiliate yourself," Squiggy stated, as he hurriedly put his leather jacket on over his pajamas. "I gotta be able to look you in the eye if we're gonna remain friends. If you need me, I'll be spending the night in that busted ice machine down the hall. And they said they didn't have any more private rooms, hah!" the little man muttered, as he headed down the hallway.

Lenny watched his roommate leave, and not for the first time, envied his ability to shut off any normal human emotions at the drop of a hat. If only he were that lucky... Steeling himself for the barrage of angry words he knew he deserved, he timidly knocked on the bathroom door. He wasn't disappointed by the response.

"Go away! "

"Leave us alone!"

"Girls, girls," he said, speaking loudly so he could be heard above the din, "I just wanted to say I was sorry. If you two wanna take one of the beds, I promise I won't try nothing. Honest injun."

"Oh yeah?" was Laverne's angry reply. "What about Squiggy?"

"Squiggy ain't spending the night in here. He's probably curled up fast asleep in the ice machine as we speak, with little icicles forming on his hair worm."

"A likely story," Shirley growled from behind the door. "How do we know that you two degenerates aren't just cagily trying to lure us out of our safe haven so you can have your wicked ways with us?"

"Uh, 'cuz we ain't good at planning stuff out in advance?"

"He's got ya there, Shirl."

"Oh, be quiet, Laverne! "

Lenny heaved a sigh of relief as he heard the lock on the bathroom door clicking.

"Laverne! What are you doing? You've got to be crazy to go back out there."

"Shirl, Lenny' s a lot of things, but he ain't a liar. Hey, Len?"

"Yeah?"

"Throw in a cross-my-heart-and-hope-to-die-stick-a-needle-in-my-eye you won't try nothing, and we'll come out."

"Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye, I won't try nothing with you, Laverne DeFazio. Tonight," he added, crossing his fingers for luck.

"That's good enough for me, Shirl."

"Well, it's not for me! You can go out there and risk your virture with two certifiable hooligans, but I shall remain in here for the night."

"You're gonna stay in a filthy bathroom all night? A bathroom so disgusting, you used half a roll of toilet paper to make a nest before you'd use the toilet? You're going to stay in here, alone, all night?"

"Yes, Laverne, I am. I happen to have standards."

"So do I, and they don't include sleeping in a grimy bathtub with you all night," Laverne hollered behind her as she came out of the bathroom.

Shirley immediately slammed the door behind her, and Lenny heard her re-lock the door. Unfortunately, his attention was immediately drawn to Laverne's angry face. "Sorry," he mumbled as he looked at the rug. "I was sleeping here, so you can have Squiggy's bed over there," he gestured towards the bathroom door.

"Nuh-uh, I'll take this bed and you can have the one Squiggy was in. God only knows where that boy's been."

"Hey! That ain't nice." Once again, her angry look silenced him. Self consciously, he removed his robe and slid under the covers, doing his best to not make eye contact. Once under the covers he turned away from her and staired fixedly at the ugly veneer of the bathroom door. He did his damnedest not to pay attention to the sounds of zippers, and snapping elastic, and the squeak of her bed. Let it go, he told himself. You've already pushed her too far tonight. "Good night, Laverne." She didn't answer.

For many minutes he lay there in the dark, listening to her breathing, as harsh and uneven as his own. "Vernie?"

"What?" was the terse reply.

"Are you still mad?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I can't believe you even have to ask!" Her voice had risen to it's characteristic whine, as she turned on the dim light between the beds.

He looked her way slowly, cautiously, and was relieved to see she still wore her yellow sweatshirt. His relief was short lived, however, when he spied her discarded jeans at the foot of her bed.

Laverne had sat up, covers gathered at her waist, and stared at him accusingly. "Why did you have to pull something like that tonight, Len? Why?"

"Squiggy--"

"No. This ain't about Squiggy, this is about you. You're better than that, Len. You knew Shirley and I weren't liking what you were doing, but you didn't stop."

"I just wanted, I mean, we wanted to--"

"To what? Do what your foreman buddy back at Shotz wanted to do to me?"

"Jesus, no! Laverne, you can't believe that we'd--"

"Why shouldn't I? I mean, you set me up for that to, didn't you? Tonight wasn't all that different, except that I thought I was with a friend that I could trust, which made it even worse!"

Instantly, he leapt out of his bed and clumsily landed in the space between his bed and hers.

"Don't you dare--" Laverne started, menacingly.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, choking back a tear, as he reached for her hand. He felt sick to his stomach. The very thought that Laverne, the girl he'd worshipped since sixth grade could ever be afraid of him, or compare him to slime like Biff... It was too much.

Laverne allowed him to take her hand, but continued to view him with suspicious eyes. "Why?" she repeated, but in a softer tone.

He looked away, ashamed. "I dunno. It's just--we've been on the road a while, and it's been really boring, what with going through Iowa and Nebraska, and a guy's mind tends to wander to stuff he really shouldn't be thinking about with ladies around," he said, blushing, "even you and Shirley."

"Thanks," was her dry reply.

"It just wasn't that," he tried to explain, "it's also that, after we drop you girls off in California... We might not ever see each other again," he finished in a small, childlike voice.

"Len..."

"I know, I'm just being stupid. As usual." He nearly jumped in shock when Laverne leaned forward and brushed his forehead with a light kiss. "What?"

"You ain't stupid. You ain't no rocket scientist neither, but you ain't stupid." She then shushed his characteristic guffaw, "Sshhh. You'll wake Shirley."

"Is she really gonna sleep in that bathroom?"

"Looks like."

"Jeez, Squiggy wouldn't even sit on the toilet."

"Let's change the subject. Len, I'm gonna miss you to when you go back to Milwaukee."

"Are you gonna miss Squiggy, to?"

"Probably. When I acutally see him go, and all."

"I dunno, Squiggy might decide he likes California."

"What?"

"Sshhh... You'll wake up Shirley. I mean it, he might stay."

"I thought you said you'd never see us again?"

"Jeez, Laverne. Squiggy and I ain't joined at the hip, we ain't Japanese twins, or nothing. I might be driving the truck back alone."

"I can't think of you two not being together. It would be like Heckle without Jeckle, Fred without Barney..."

"Bosco without lard. I know, Laverne, I know. The thing is... Wait a second, cross your heart and hope to die, stick a needle in your eye, you won't repeat what I'm about to say to nobody nowhere no how?"

"I swear, I swear. What is it?"

"I got a promotion!"

"No way! At Shotz?"

"Where else?" he asked plaintively. "It seems old man Shotz had to fire his new dispatcher on account of he was the one peeing in the vat room. Guess who was next in line?" Lenny swelled with pride, as a grin split his face. After nearly eight years, they finally decided to give him a shot.

"Lenny, that's wonderful! You're almost management!"

"Yeah, but I promise my new found glory won't go to my head none, Laverne."

Laverne's smile dropped a notch. "That's why Squiggy's thinking of staying in California. He didn't get promoted, and you did."

"He's got a lot of pride. Besides, he said he didn't want to go to the trouble of breaking in a new partner. Squiggy will probably do well in Hollywood, with him being so talented and good looking, and all."

"Yeah. Anyway, I'm real proud of you, Len."

"Just between you, me, and the compost; I'm proud of me too, Laverne. I ain't never been promoted before. Except to eighth grade. Finally."

"It looks like things are finally working out for both of us, Lenny. You're going back to Milwaukee to start your new job, and me and Shirley are going to find our fortunes in Hollywood. Pretty good for three kids from Fillmore High, huh?"

"Yeah, pretty good." Lenny's face fell, and he turned away so Laverne wouldn't see the reddening of his eyes. Too late.

"Len? Are you--"

"No! And, what if I am crying? It's not like a guy loses all three of his best friends every day, is it?"

"You ain't losing us, Lenny! We'll still come back and visit," she said, apparently ignoring his snort of derision. "And you can visit us..."

"Nah, I'll be too broke now that Squiggy won't be there to pay a quarter of the rent every month. Besides, I'll be too busy with my new job," his voice rising as a sob over took him.

"Did you mean that, Lenny?"

"About the new job? Oh yeah, it's going to take me forever to learn all the truck numbers and how to do the paperwork, and how to--"

"No! About us being your best friends."

"Well, sort of. I mean, Squiggy's my best friend in the whole world, and you know your my best girl friend, right?" At her nod, he continued, "And Shirley... Well, she sort of there by default, but she's really nice and all. It's just, thing won't be the same with you and Shirley, and Squiggy, even your Pop and Mrs. Babish--err, DeFazio, gone. It's just going to be me. Alone. Forever and ever, never...

"Lenny! Cut it out! You're going to make other friends. Heck, you'll probably make a lot of friends now that your no longer tied down by Squ--uh, too involved with being friends with Squiggy. Besides, you still have Carmine."

Lenny snorted again. "Yeah, right. Hang out with a dancer. I ain't that desperate, Laverne. Owww!" He rubbed his shoulder where she smacked him. "The only reason I ain't getting mad is I know you only smacked me 'cuz you know you're going to miss me to."

She opened her mouth, and looked like she was going to give him the mother of all zingers. Instead, she smiled tenderly, and nodded. "I am going to miss you, Len. Best guy-friends don't just grow on trees, y'know."

"Yeah. And you've been fertilizing me since high school. Ouch! Again with the swatting?"

"Lenny! I thought we was having a moment here?"

"We were, it's just that, y'know, I've always sort of felt more for you than you have for me."

"Len..." There was a warning tone in her voice.

"I know! And, I finally got it through my thick skull that we ain't ever gonna be more than friends, but it don't mean I have to like it." He looked away, thinking that not looking into her eyes would make his next words easier. "'Sides, when and if we ever see each other again, you'll probably be married to some terrific guy and have three or four kids."

"Yeah? And what will you have, Lenny?"

"A cat. If I'm lucky."

"Lenny! Life has more to offer you than just a cat."

"Don't say bad things about my cat! Rueben is all I got!"

"You've named your imaginary future cat?"

"I had some time to think about it..."

"Lenny," she said, earnestly as she cupped his chin in her hand, forcing him to meet her gaze, "you are a sweet, kind, not-bad-looking guy who is a terrific friend and a wonderful guitar player. You're going to meet your Miss Right out there, trust me."

He opened his mouth to tell her he already had, but she was moving to Hollywood. Instead, he merely forced a smile and said, "Thanks, Laverne."

"It's the truth. Besides, don't be too sure I'm gonna meet Mr. Right." Now it was her turn to look away as she spoke, "I don't even know if I believe in him anymore, or if I really ever did."

"But, you and Shirl--"

"No. Not me. Just Shirley. She's always thought that her prince was going to come riding over the next hill with a medical school diploma in one hand and an engagement ring in the other. She's the dreamer, not me."

"You don't want to meet your Mr. Right?"

"If he's available? Yeah, sure. But, I don't think there's a Mr. Right in my future, Lenny. I think there may be a string of Mr. Right-Nows, but I don't think there's one, single, solitary guy who's worth staking all of your hopes and dreams on. And, even if there is, they leave one heckuva hole in your heart when they leave. I don't think I could go through that again," she mumbled, looking away from him.

God. She still hadn't gotten over Randy Carpenter, he realized. Words failed him. How could she, of all people, think that love wasn't a possibility anymore? Laverne used to be one of the most caring, and open people he'd ever met. Any guy with half a brain in his head would take a shot with her. And that's precisely what he decided to do...

He touched his lips softly to hers, unmoving and not even thinking about using his tongue. They stayed like that for several seconds, motionless as he enjoyed the sensation of her soft breath against his cheek. He didn't want to move, he was too afraid he would spook her if he advanced, and he sure as hell didn't want to pull away.

She took the next step. Her lips gently capture his lower lip, their slight pressure buoying his spirit for the first time during their long journey.

He forced himself to be still, to let her take the lead. He didn't trust himself not to do anything stupid. He was afraid to wake up from his dream. He kept his eyes closed in the dim light of the room, to afraid that the opening of his eyelids would break the spell that had been woven. He concentrated on his other senses; the delicious sensation of the dry silk of her lips on his, the warmth radiating between their bodies, the combined scents of her shampoo, the motel soap, and toothpaste, the gently rhythmic sound of Shirley's quiet snoring in the bathroom. Let this be enough, he prayed, let him be satisfied with these meager sensations.

Once again, she surprised him by taking the lead. He felt her warm hand against his cheek, as she leaned in further. Her mouth moved more aggressively against his as she brushed his lips with tiny, innocent, kisses. Kisses like an angel would give. The feelings that burgeoned within him were far from angelic, however. Calling himself every name in the book, he pulled back from her slowly, but firmly.

"Laverne," he hoarsely whispered, as he forced his eyes to focus on her glowing face, "I'm sorry. I promised I'd behave, please don't be mad." He searched her green eyes for anger, or worse, fear; and was surprised to only see tenderness there. Once again, her hand stroked his face soothingly.

"You ain't breaking a promise, Len," was her husky response. Her hand continued to stroke his skin, as he desperately tried to figure out when and why the Universe decided to cut him some slack. He didn't have long to wonder before she smiled again and pulled back the blanket partially. "You don't look very comfortable, or warm sitting on the floor there, Len."

His shocked and over-taxed brain commanded his limbs before he was even aware the invitation had been offered. All of a sudden, he found himself lying in a bed, under the covers, with Laverne DeFazio. The girl, no, the woman he'd desired for so long. And, once again, he caught himself looking a gift horse in the mouth. "Why?" he managed to finally croak out, "Why now?"

She pulled away from him, a slight expression of annoyance flickered across her Mediterranean features. "Isn't this what you've always wanted, Len? You and me, like this?"

"Yeah. I also wanted a red bicycle for my eighth birthday, and I never got that."

"You just got me thinking earlier, is all. Who knows? We might never see each other again. Don't we deserve one night together? A night that we'll both remember when we're old and gray?"

It was easier to just nod mutely, than to answer her. Also, there was less chance in him saying something stupid that would make her run back to the safety of the bathroom. Instead, he encircled her in his arms and pulled her closer for another kiss. She melted against him as if she were made of butter. There wasn't a half inch between them. Slowly, he timidly flicked the tip of his tongue against her lips, and nearly swooned when she parted them. Her tongue quickly challenged his for dominance.

Lenny groaned softly as she writhed against him. He kept up with her tempo, but didn't escalate their journey. He only allowed his hands to roam up and down her back, ruthlessly keeping them from caressing other, more curvaceous portions of her anatomy. As his hands ran down the back of her sweatshirt, he realized that the elastic sound he had heard earlier was the removal of her now missing bra.

As their temperatures rose under the thin, cotton blanket, Lenny involuntarily clutched Laverne more tightly. At was at this point in his dreams he usually woke up, only to find himself on the floor by his bunk, with Jeffrey staring down at him mockingly, with his judgmental iguana eyes. This time, he wasn't going to wake up, he promised himself. Emboldened, he began returning Laverne's kisses more hurriedly. Her pleasured sigh as he trailed kisses down her jaw line to her throat gave him instantaneous courage, as his hand found her hip, and traveled southward to her smooth thigh. He waited momentarily for the slap that never came.

Laverne moaned, as her fingers nimbly began to unbutton his pajama top. Moments later, Rocky and Bullwinkle were tossed to the floor.

Self-consciousness warred with arousal in Lenny's mind. To the best of his recollection, she hadn't seen him without a shirt on since their days at Lake Michigan in their childhood. The full intimacy of their situation hit him like a ton of bricks. He rolled her onto her back, pinning her hands up by her head as he tore his lips from her skin and forced himself to slow down. He lay on her for several long moments, his eyes scanning her face for any flicker of fear, or regret. The green eyes that met his gaze were glowing, and her face wore an unfamiliar, slack and lustful expression. The sight of her slowly licking her upper lip was nearly his undoing. He released her hands, and waited for her to come to her senses, and to shove him off of her. Instead, she once again reached up to his face and stroked his damp, flushed cheek. Her smile turned into a dirty smirk as her fingertips lightly trailed down his goose bump-covered neck and his shoulder, a sensation he couldn't decipher as pleasure or pain.

"Sshhh..." she said, laying the tormenting finger against her swollen lips, "You'll wake Shirley." Her eyes traveled leisurely down his torso, appraisingly. When they came to rest on the jutting hardness angling from his pajama bottoms, the lustful smirk returned. "Sshhh..." she repeated, as she pressed him back from her, forcing him to sit on his heels, as she sat up.

It was over, he thought, disappointment washing over him as the throbbing near-pain in his groin increased. He wanted her to suck him off so badly! A flash of memory distracted him for a moment; punching Hector Katzenbaum in the stomach in eleventh grade when Hector had been foolish enough to speculate on the cause of Laverne's overbite in Lenny's presence. Damn, he thought as the dull pounding between his legs brought his attention back to the here and now, he'd be lucky if she agreed to give him a hand job. More likely, he'd have to figure out a way to discreetly jerk off without anyone seeing him tonight.

Laverne's movements distracted him. While he had been obsessing over his own release, the woman who's image usually initiated his fantasies had managed to ease her baggy sweatshirt over her hips, and before his astounded eyes, pulled it over her head. Then, clad only in white panties, Laverne lay back down, beckoning him with an encouraging smile. Her lips were moving, but for the life of him, he couldn't hear a word she said. The blood pounding in his ears was deafening. Tentatively, he reached out, his fingers stopping a hairsbreadth away from her breast. He looked down into her eyes, still ready to abandon his deepest desire if that was truly her wish. There was no condemnation in her jade eyes, only desire. Suddenly, she leaned up towards him, her breast entering his grasp as of it's own accord.

"Mmmmm..." Laverne made a sound, somewhere between a moan and a purr. Her arm snaked around Lenny's neck, pulling him down upon her.

He tasted her lips again briefly, and then worked his way downwards. When his lips finally reached her breasts, he looked up into her face once again. He'd never seen her look hungrier, more needy for a touch. Gingerly, he began to fondle her, grazing her hardened peaks with his fingertips, before inhaling them into his wet and greedy mouth. He glanced up at her, and felt a swell of confidence as he saw her biting her lower lip, while thrusting against his thigh with her hips.

He hadn't realized that he had slipped out of his pajama bottoms until he felt Laverne's smooth thigh. The electric jolt caused him to inhale sharply, and bruise her delicate flesh with his teeth. He pulled away immediately when he heard her sharp gasp, an apology already forming on his lips.

"Lenny," Laverne gasped breathlessly, as her fingers hooked over the waistband of her panties, before yanking them down her slender legs, "please tell me you got a rubber?"

Dumbly, he nodded, as he scrambled off the bed and over to the pile of his clothes on the floor. His eyes never left her beautiful face, so afraid he was that she would vanish, or come to her senses and run. Blindly, he fumbled through the pile until his fingers brushed the inimitable texture of his satin Lone Wolf jacket. He reached through the torn lining until he found his battered wallet. Once again, he thanked whatever benevolent deity had given him Andrew Squigman as a best friend. A best friend who insisted they buy new rubbers every other month in case they'd be lucky enough to run into a really stacked hitchhiker, or a lady who was very grateful for anyone to help her change a flat. Not that either one of these scenarios had ever happened, but he and Squiggy were prepared for the day when the law of averages worked out in their favor. It was all he could do to not yell out in triumph when he touched the foil package. Grinning he leaped back into the bed, causing the springs to groan loudly.

"Sshh..." Laverne murmured, as she knelt on the bed and met him halfway back, "you'll wake Shirley."

Waking Shirley was definitely not in his plans tonight, Lenny realized, although he hadn't planned any of what was turning out to be the best night of his life. Impulsively, he kissed Laverne, and felt her stiffen in surprise. Momentarily, she molded herself to his form and returned his kiss. Their caresses resumed as if they hadn't missed a beat. His touch was bolder now, having finally realized that it wasn't a dream, and surely Laverne wouldn't bring him this far only to tease him. Lenny's tongue worked its way down the newly familiar curves of Laverne's body, as his fingers began to gently probe and stroke her.

Laverne lay back, eyes closed and spine arched as she thrust against Lenny to the beat of her own primal rhythm. Her breath came in rapid, shallow pants as ground herself into him in increasingly frenzied movements. He leaned over her and kissed her softly, allowing him time to leisurely explore her mouth, without changing his pressure or tempo against her. "Sshhh..." he breathed against her trembling lips, "you'll wake Shirley."

Her eyes flew open, and stared at him for several seconds before it looked like she was actually seeing him. "Now," she whispered, raggedly, "I want you now."

Gulping, he nodded, playtime all but forgotten next to the intensity of her lust filled expression. Quickly, he tore open the package, prayed that the rubber wasn't inside out, and quickly rolled it on himself. Turning back towards her, he gave her one last out, one last reprieve before they crossed the ultimate line together, "You sure, Vernie?"

"Now!" she all but growled, as she pulled him atop her, spreading her legs wider to accommodate his narrow hips.

Gently, he brushed against her before moving slowly forward. She arched her back and moaned as he entered her. Lenny concentrated on her exquisitely tight grasp, her heat penetrating through the lambskin. Then, he inhaled sharply as he felt her become too narrow to pass. Before he could say anything, or do anything; Lenny felt Laverne's nails sink into his back as she simultaneously pulled him down on her while roughly bucking up against him. Thunderstruck, he sank all of the way inside of her, breathing harshly. "I didn't know," he whispered, nearly overwhelmed by the sensations.

"I didn't want you to know," she replied softly in his ear. She lay under him for several moments, before starting to slowly move against him. When he felt her teeth on his earlobe, Lenny started moving again. Laverne met him eagerly thrust for thrust, any discomfort, apparently forgotten.

Lenny arched his back and moaned, before looking at the woman beneath him. Laverne's eyes were open and she was seeing him, really looking at him, now. He stared into her eyes as he began to move more rapidly. Lenny leaned forward and began kissing her face, the sensation of her lips returning his caresses were punctuated by Laverne's soft little whimpers, as he felt her begin to convulse around him. Within moments, he felt her spasm and felt the pain of her nails digging into his shoulder blades. Her movements pushed him over the edge. He felt himself exploding as he desperately clutched at her, and gave himself over to the tremors. He fell against her heavily; too exhausted to push up--or even apologize. Her hand stroking up his sweating shoulder blade, to cup the back of his head told him that she didn't mind his weight on top of her.

He lay atop her for what seemed like forever, as his breathing and heartbeat returned to normal. Normal? He suppressed a giggle as he rolled off of her, and stared goofily at the ceiling. Was there such a thing as normal? And who the hell would ever want normal again after experiencing something as wonderful as they just had. Grinning, he reached for Laverne, and was shocked when her body trembled again at his touch. He propped himself upon his elbow and delighted in continuing to touch and taste her perspiration coated body. Finally, after the last of her aftershocks faded, she rolled to her side, and gave him the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen.

"Thank you," she whispered, as she leaned forward to kiss him gently.

"It was beautiful," he blurted, and then blushed at his tone.

She grinned in response, then stood.

"Where are you going?"

"The other bed," she indicated with a jerk of her head, as she quickly began to re dress.

"What?"

"I don't want to doze off and have Squiggy and Shirley find us naked in bed together, do you?"

Privately, he wanted the entire world to know, but it wasn't the most gentlemanly of sentiments. "I guess you're right," he said, begrudgingly as he struggled into the pajamas she tossed to him.

"I meant it," Laverne said, as she zipped up her jeans and leaned over him, "Thank you." She once again kissed him, but there was an air of finality about it. Smiling, Lenny accepted the kiss before rolling over, clutching the bed's spare pillow in a lover's embrace and falling into a deep, well-deserved sleep.

_"Oh, right! You gotta be crazy, Lenny! Ain't no way, no how I'm ever telling anyone what really happened in Nevada!"_

_"Why?" His single word question cut through her soul. He was, in his own odd way, as forthright and demanding as a small child._

_"Because," she struggled, blindly groping for words that would explain, but not wound, "because, I thought you would be heading back to Milwaukee. Because I was tired of being hung up about still being a virgin! Because I wanted us to have one perfect night. Which answer do you like best, Lenny?" she said, as the sadness became nearly unbearable for her, "They're all true."_

_"Laverne! I turned down my promotion at Shotz to stay with you, here, in California! We can have a whole heap of perfect nights," he said as he pulled her towards him in desperation._

_"No!" Laverne shoved him away, overwhelmed by his need, and took a step back. There was safety in distance. She'd learned that a long time ago. "You shouldn't have turned down that promotion, Len! I didn't promise you nothing!"_

_"Why?" he demanded again, his voice rising to a shout. "Are you ashamed of me, or something?"_

_Her expression betrayed her before she could stop herself. "No, Len," she pleaded, lamely. "It ain't all that. It's just..."_

_"Just what, Laverne? That you're ashamed you fucked me? Is that it?"_

_Her eyes narrowed meanly. "Y'know, when you're like this, I do regret it. I was stupid to think you could just be with me for one night, and then let it go. I was stupid to think that you wouldn't throw away one of the best breaks you've ever had in your life, over a woman you knew wasn't in love with you, Lenny Kosnowski."_

_The chill in his reply shook her to her core. "No, Laverne. I'm the stupid one. I thought that nice girls like you only did things like that with guys they loved. Guess you've never felt much for anyone then, with me being your first, and all."_

_Her palm itched to slap his face, to wipe his cold sneer off with one swipe. For once, however, Laverne fought down her impulsiveness and answered, in a frigid tone she barely recognized as her own voice, "I do have feelings for you Lenny. There just not the same type you have for me. I thought we settled that years ago." He started to speak, but she cut him off. "I guess I do still have some feelings for you. If I didn't, I wouldn't have kept my mouth shut to protect you."_

_"Yeah, right!"_

_Pushed beyond reason at his thick-headedness, she grabbed the front of his shirt and shoved him against the stucco wall of the building. "Do you know what Sonny would do to you if I told him exactly what we'd done at the Royal Cactus? Do you know what my Pop would do?" The color draining from his face told her that Lenny had finally gotten the message. Frank DeFazio may have been entering his golden years, but he still wasn't anybody to mess with. Especially when his little Muffin's virtue was a factor._

_"Let it go, Lenny. Let me go" she pleaded, as she released him and stepped back. "We had one terrific night, but we ain't got no future." With that, she turned to walk away._

_"I guess you was right that night, Laverne. I guess there ain't no Mr. Right in the cards for you, just a bunch of Mr. Right-Nows. Do you ever wonder, Laverne," he asked in a bitter voice, ragged from hurt, "if I was meant to be your Mr. Right?"_

_She turned and walked back to him, meeting his angry eyes with an almost eerie calm. "I wonder about it every day, Lenny. That's the hell of it."_

_FIN_


End file.
